The Right Words
by likeit
Summary: See Summary before story.


A/N: Those of you who know my work _know_ I have to give a little background. Did you ever notice, that in reality, Bobby never really talks a lot. I mean, he speaks, obviously, but, he never seems to know the right thing to say in any situation, other than that he is dealing with on a case. Within his own life, he seems at a loss for words. I don't know. I just feel like there is more he wants to say, but can't. I remember one episode in particular...the one where Eames bias towards drunks leads her to mistakenly force a (false) confession from a girl who had been drinking. Eames is clearly upset when she realizes what she's done and _all _Goren can say back to her is "well, it'll be ok.". I mean c'mon. After everything she's done for him. And way she's backed him up. Still, I feel bad for him. Because I believe, deep down, he wants to be able to express himself. So anyway.........

Oh. I don't own them at all. Dick Wolf does.

With Words

He has never been much with words. At least his own.

He wonders, if, over the years, people he's worked with realize that in reality_ he _doesn't say very much.

Words are _her_ specialty. She is quick with words. She knows how and when to use them, and just where to direct them. Words are like weapons for her. She can brandish them at a moments notice..quicker sometimes than she can pull out her gun. And she never misses her mark. After all, she almost _fucking_ _destroyed_ him after his undercover stint. Simply with her words. See, she's not like him. She doesn't mince words, she doesn't twist them. She knows exactly what she is saying and who she is saying it to. He wonders if she knows that the wounds she leaves with her words are so much deeper and take so much longer to heal, than those she leaves with a bullet. Then he decides she must know. Words are her weapon of choice.

//

"_Back off"_. He tried it her way that once. _Tried_ to wound her with his words. And he had. He knew it the minute he said them. He had meant to hurt her. He was angry and sad and desperate and tired. Later on, weeks later, after his tantrum and his one week leave, he tried to apologize, tried to explain, but his tongue got tied and he ended up not really saying anything at all. She simply shrugged and said "Geez, you could have just told me what was going on. I mean, C'mon Bobby. You're a grownup. Use your words."

//

He stammers. Sometimes it's because his brain is working faster than his mouth. Sometimes, he's trying, desperately to say something, but he can't find the right words.

//

Once, they went out for a few drinks with Logan and Barek and a few other detectives and Logan was regaling them with stories about Staten Island, and this and that and the other thing. She was laughing along with everyone else and he found himself jealous at the ease in which Logan was able to capture and keep a crowds attention. Afterwards, on the way home, he tentatively asked her what she thought of Logan. She looked at him, really into him, for a minute and then said "Well, he certainly likes to hear himself talk." He relaxed for a second but then she added "He sure is charming though. He has a real way with words."

At home that night he wondered if that's what she wanted. Someone who had a way with words.

//

He so often can't _convey_ how he feels. His words end up being inadequate. "Eames. I'm Sorry" That was a _piss poor_ way of trying to get out what he was really _trying_ say. _"I screwed up. I know it. Don't leave me. Don't be mad. Let me make it up to you." _And his explanations following the "I'm Sorry"... They were pretty poor too. Not at all what he wanted to say. Not at all what he wanted her to _hear_.

//

He supposes he could blame it on his mother. She was never much for words. Most of the time his mother's words were the ramblings of a ill woman, someone who saw things that weren't there. Heard voices that used words to torment her on a daily basis.

Harsh words were all he remembered from his Father. Or, rather, what he mostly remembers is the lack of words.

//

He wonders how even with his vast knowledge of several languages, he is unable to express how he feels with words. Or ask for what he needs. Words always seem to fail him.

//

Irony for him, is that he actually loves words.

Books have been his constant companion throughout his life. They have taken him to places he's never been. Taught him things he has used in his professional and personal life. Kept him company on days when he was alone. Spoke to him using words, some so prolific, they helped shape his life.

//

There have been countless times in their years together that he has searched, _racked_ his brain for the right words. They never come. More recently, he recalls saying "_You know we need to do this". _

When he really **meant** to say "_I know this is tearing you apart. I wish there was another way. Maybe someone else can take this case." _

When he really **wanted** to say _"I'm sorry. I'm jealous. Would you be this torn up if it was me? Would anyone?"_

//

Sitting here, now, his life pulled out from under him, he is a broken man. He looks at her, he doesn't know what to say, and neither does she. He can see she is at loss for words this time. His mind is screaming. _Say something to her. Anything. Tell her what you need. _ His mind is blank. Overwhelmed with what has just taken place. He looks up at her. She is unsure of what to say. She puts her hand on top of his for a second and turns to go. He grasps her hand and she turns to look at him, questions and unshed tears _for_ him in her eyes.

Softly, voice cracking, he says "You're all I have left".

She grasps tighter to his hand turns back and kneels next to him.

He finally found the right words.

-fin-


End file.
